


Unruly Subconscious

by seimaisin



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Episode Related, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-24
Updated: 2004-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan Ivanova dreams. It's not quite what she had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unruly Subconscious

Susan Ivanova opened her eyes, and found herself in her quarters on Babylon 5. Logically, she knew she wasn’t actually there. She was really lying on some damned slab of metal on the White Star, pretending to sleep just so that Marcus wouldn’t bother her.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. After all, if she wasn’t sleeping, she wouldn’t be dreaming, right? Right. So, she’d dozed off, and was now dreaming … about her own quarters. Well, damn. Boring kind of dream. She was about to face nearly certain death – the least her subconscious could give her was some sort of exotic locale.

“Susan?”

She turned around, only to see Marcus – dream Marcus, she supposed – standing behind her. “Oh, great. Not only do I have to dream about the uniforms I forgot to put away, but you’re going to bother me in my subconscious, too?”

Marcus shrugged, silent for once. He leaned against the wall, blue eyes following her as she picked up the pile of laundry from the table, walked to the closet, and shoved everything in haphazardly. (Yes, it was only a dream, but the least she could do was make sure it was an orderly dream.) “You shouldn’t have made me sleep,” she complained. “If I was on the bridge, I could at least pretend to be useful. Here, I’m just remembering all the things I didn’t do before I left, all the things I might never get the chance to do. It’s annoying, is what it is.”

She turned back to him, but dream Marcus was still quiet. “Wow, what do I have to do to get you to be like this in real life?” she muttered. She didn’t mean it, though, and she knew it. She’d come to rely on Marcus’s constant stream of chatter here on the White Star. His voice soothed her, distracted her from the knot in the pit of her stomach that told her they were all doomed. Also, when he talked, she didn’t have to think about his eyes. Like, right now, dream Marcus’s eyes were trained on her, unblinking. They were creepy. Okay, maybe not creepy. They were warm and mysterious and made her stomach do weird flip-flops, and that was disturbing. Marcus was supposed to annoy her. He annoyed her, she ignored him when he dropped anvil-like hints on her head; he was an asset to their side of the war, and, if she was being honest, a good friend. That was all, and she didn’t have to admit that he looked really good leaning against the wall, not even in her dream.

She noticed an empty glass sitting on the table next to her bed, so she picked it up and carried it out to the kitchen. “I’m scared, you know, and this whole sleeping thing isn’t helping. What if I could have come up with some kind of brilliant plan to save the whole universe, if only I was awake? Then it would be your fault when we all die.” She cringed. Didn’t need to say that, even if it wasn’t for real. Didn’t need to even consider the idea … no. Failure was not an option.

“Susan.” That was it, just her name again. She stopped and turned again. Marcus still stood in the same place, facing her, leaning in the doorway. Somehow, his voice made her name sound musical … no. No no no. She was not going to compare his voice to music. That was sappy and stupid, and this was Marcus. No dippy romantic thoughts. None.

All right, so his obvious interest in her was flattering. He was a good-looking man, she could admit (silently, of course); most women would be falling all over themselves for a man who was as loyal as he was. She wasn’t most women, naturally. She was pretty much broken. If he’d just step back and quit with the hero worship for two seconds, he’d see that, and quit bothering her.

“What would I do if you quit bothering me?” she muttered. It was a depressing thought. The fact that the thought depressed her depressed her. “I’m not making any sense, even to myself.”

Finally, dream Marcus said something that wasn’t her name. At first, she couldn’t make it out, but a moment later, she recognized the phrasing. He’d said it before – that string of Minbari. He’d told her it was a greeting. Not hardly. “You think I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen,” she said accusingly. “That’s really not helpful right now.”

Dream Marcus didn’t have anything else to add, which made Susan groan with frustration. “Isn’t it about time for me to wake up now?” She marched over to where he stood, and stood nose to nose with him. “Damn you, wake me up now, I want to get on with this. Sleeping isn’t doing anything for me but confusing me!” Somewhere out there, in the real world, Clark’s forces were lying in wait for them. Sheridan was still a prisoner. Their whole cause was on the brink of falling apart, and here she was, stuck inside her own head, fighting a stupid, careless urge to throw her arms around dream Marcus’s neck and hold on for dear life. A little human contact would feel so good, right about now. A hug from someone who cared. Maybe even … “Oh, hell. It’s a damned dream, isn’t it?” she asked. Dream Marcus raised his eyebrows eloquently.

She kissed him. Reached out, grabbed him by the hair, pulled his head towards hers and pressed her lips to his. Amazing, how solid an illusion could feel – she could feel his body pressed against hers, his mouth warm and wet. God, she could even smell him, some spicy scent that must come from his time with the Minbari, right? Because no male she’d ever been with smelled quite like that. She didn’t even know how the scent made it into her dream – she didn’t quite remember ever noticing that scent, but still, she had no doubt that it was exactly what he smelled like. His body fit so nicely with hers – of course it did, it was her dream, she could make things perfect if she wanted, right? She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d feel this good against her in reality. Not that she’d ever find out, but … something to ponder.

When she pulled back, his eyes were closed. Yeah, it was only her dream, but his expression still made her feel good. Powerful. And, damn if she didn’t feel a little less alone, even if this was all in her head. “You know, Marcus, you’re a useful sort of guy to have around, even when it’s not real,” she admitted, leaning her forehead against his. “Almost makes a girl wish … nah.” She shook her head, but didn’t let go of him. “This would never work. Ever. Would it?”

Susan thought she heard Marcus’s voice – “You’ll never know …” – but, as she slid between the dream world and the waking one, she couldn’t be sure. Damn him, anyway. Even in her own dream, he wouldn’t give her a straight answer. That figured.


End file.
